


a sea of stars

by jynxhasadragon



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Death, F/F, F/M, I have a lot of OCs, No smut but hints of it, SORRY YALL, Violence, these chapters are gonna be short ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynxhasadragon/pseuds/jynxhasadragon
Summary: uldren sov--not a beloved man among the guardians. nikolai is not happy with his revival, but maybe the man has changed. he doubts it.





	1. nikolai

"Petra."

She turns away from her scattering of maps and instruments as she faced the Guardian before her. The Hunter stood before her in a lazy yet professional manner, his helmet held in the crook of his elbow against his side and his weight shifted to his right. Nikolai wore his usual attire—the Spider's tattered cloak, his riding trousers, his armored vest, and his quiver, bow, and rifle strapped to his side and his back, respectively. Oksana hovered not far behind him, twisting her shell as she scanned the surrounding area.

Nikolai's pale lips were crooked up in the slightest smile as he waited for her response. His hair was a mess. Petra scoffed.

"The Scorn are gathering for yet another attack on the Rift Generator," she said as she handed him her tablet for review. "I've rung up Valas, Adelaide, and Tovania to assist you. You know the drill."

He nodded slowly after giving the information showed a quick once-over, his mouth falling back to its default frowning state as he read.

"Nothing's changed from what we can tell," Petra said wearily, placing the device on the table when he handed the device back. "Next to no progress has been made on this damned curse, according to both Sedia and Shuro."

Nikolai set his helmet down beside the tablet with a sigh before pulling Petra close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're tired, aren't you," he mumbled into her wine-red hair. She sighed in turn and nodded, burying her face into his neck. 

"I simply don't know what to do at this point," she mumbled. "It's been months and  _ nothing _ has changed," she continued as she shifted beneath his arms. "The same attacks are subject to the same defenses, the same damn Ogres come back week after week after week, that blasted Savathûn-spawn refuses to stay dead, and still no word from the Queen. I can't see how we can stay here and continue to fight when we make absolutely no progress in so doing."

Oksana floated over after she finished her scans, wisely remaining silent as Petra spoke. Both Ghost and Guardian shared a glance when the Regent-Commander fell silent, and Nikolai sighed quietly.

A lone sparrow raced down the path towards their location in the Strand, bearing a cloaked figure clad in simple browns. That would be Valas. Almost time to leave, then.

A second figure, one he didn't recognize, caught the corner of his eye. He resisted the urge to look directly at them and made a mental note to examine the area after the generator was cleared. 

He nuzzled her hair as he shifted their position such that the unknown figure was behind his back. "We'll figure something out," he told her quietly.


	2. uldwyn

The two warriors far down below eventually resumed their duties, after discussing what he assumed to be more personal matters. Both tickled at his memory. Frustratingly enough, however, Uldwyn couldn't remember either of them. The little light hovered at Uldwyn's shoulder, staying oddly quiet for such a talkative creature. The man below had a companion too, he noted, a small thing in pointed ivory and deep-space blue. That would mean that he was like Uldwyn. A Guardian, his friend had told him.

Uldwyn looked back to his small companion—a Ghost, or so he'd been told—with mild curiosity. He didn't look very similar to the other man's Ghost, what with his shape and color resembling that of a flower. Not all Ghosts looked the same, then, he decided.

He backed away from the cliffside as a third figure approached the two below. Uldwyn still wasn't entirely sure how he would be received among the Awoken, and he wasn't itching to find out. So far, he'd managed to stay hidden from the other occupants in the area. Perhaps he should go to this "Tower" his Ghost keeps telling him of. It seemed the safer option. But—no. He'd need a ship of sorts, first.

"Perhaps we should get you in touch with Miss Nkechi Thirty-two," the Ghost offered as Uldwyn began to scale the cliff behind them as he headed back to their small hideout. "She is a generous lady, and Agu is a good friend indeed. She comes by every so often to assist the Awoken in their battles."

He considers the option momentarily before ultimately deciding against it. No, something in his gut tells him that he should keep a low profile, especially around other...Guardians, his Ghost had called them.

A guttural cry alerted him almost immediately, and he whipped his head around. His hands tighten against the smooth rock beneath them, and he scrambles the rest of the way up before rolling immediately as a blast from a Chieftain's rifle shrieks past his head. Uldwyn has no weapons, save for the blade he had been laid to rest with. The Chieftain and his smattering of vile soldiers began to pursue him, climbing around the cliffside. He only had minutes to plan.

Uldwyn hides himself in the shadows of the foliage near the pathway the Chieftain would be taking.  _ Not a good place for hiding _ , he thinks as he grimaces, but it will have to do. Only three of the Chieftain's minions had followed. He began to plan his course of action.

His Ghost squeaked quietly in surprise, and Uldwyn turned to look at him. He had to remain quiet for now, though—he would ask later. The group rounded the bend, and he steadied himself.

His knife shot out from the shadows and embedded itself into the neck of the smallest of the four and the beast dropped dead, sliding a few feet forward from its initial momentum before coming to a halt directly in front of him. Perfect. The remaining trio stopped in surprise and Uldwyn leapt out low, grabbing for his knife and the raider's gun before rolling in the dust as fires whizzed past his ears. His blade once again shot out of his hand before embedding itself into the chest of the Chieftain, and with a well-lined shot his head blasted off.

A stray bullet grazed his arm and Uldwyn twisted his lips in annoyance The two remaining both had their sights on him as their guns began to glow. He waited.

Leaping to the side as their guns fired, he dug his heel into the dirt and pushed himself forward, knocking down one and shoving his knee into its skull. The Scorn struggled momentarily as its head collapsed, but he already had his knife back in his hands. The third seemed to stand still, mouth agape and claws gripping the barrel of his rifle as he watched Uldwyn's knife flash towards him.

The last remaining Scorn was dead before he even saw the knife in its skull. He breathed heavily for a moment, taking in his surroundings and twisting his lips in disgust at the sight of the blue-black mud in the path caused by their blood. He turned away. The Chieftain's rifle could be useful.

He collapsed as a shot ripped through his lower leg, clenching his jaw to keep from crying out. Off in the distance behind him, a lone Raider cackled as it dematerialized into blue mist and scurried off. He growled to himself before hauling himself back to the foliage. It would be a long way back.


	3. nikolai

****

Three Scorn Raiders and a Chieftain. All bearing knife wounds, save for a single Raider that had suffered the unfortunate fate of death via crushed skull. Nikolai picked through the carnage as he examined the bodies. All the cuts were fairly clean, made by a very sharp edge. No serrated corners on any of the wounds, as were a trademark sign of a Hunter's blade like his own. Not a Guardian, then. Perhaps one of the corsairs?

No. They were all bound to the curse as the Scorn were. This was the first he'd seen of this specific occurrence. Whomever had killed these Scorn, while not necessarily in the wrong for doing so, had to be a Lightbearer.

Nikolai's mind wandered as he continued picking through the site. The Chieftain was missing its blaster. Did this Lightbearer have any weapons aside from their own blade? Highly unlikely, but a possibility nonetheless. There were a surprising amount of Ghosts among those in the Dreaming City. Perhaps…

No. Uldren was put in the ground. Nikolai had made sure of that himself, regardless of whatever freak dream he'd had in the Queen's Court. Another lie laid in place by the witch-spawn, no doubt.

He frowned as he rose from the beaten path, still damp from blood. Would it hurt to check? Oksana would be suspicious—he hadn't been telling his Ghost of his…"visions", for lack of a better term, as of late. He wasn't sure how she'd react, to be fair.

Regardless.

Perhaps it would be better for him if he would check. Just to be sure.

_ And if your suspicions are proven true? _ he thought to himself. Well, he would have to do something bout that, wouldn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapters are a thing now i guess


	4. uldwyn

He didn't think the Scorn rifle would last long, to be honest. It certainly lasted longer than Uldwyn had initially thought, but certainly not long enough to suit his tastes.

Besides, it was too heavy.

He frowned once again at the unfamiliar piece of machinery laying before him. Knowing how to operate the rifle was one thing. Knowing the mechanics behind it was another beast entirely. 

His Ghost, Pulled Pork—the name suited him in a peculiar way, strange as it was; Uldwyn couldn't bring himself to name him otherwise—scanned the weapon with an odd curiosity. Perhaps he had some ideas on how to repair it?

"I'm afraid not, Sir Uldwyn," was Pulled Pork's response when he voiced his question. Uldwyn sighed; he'd have to get a new weapon, then. Where from, however, was a different sort of problem.

Pulled Pork likely would not condone theft, but Uldwyn didn't see any other way to acquire such weapons—weapons that the Awoken corsairs held in bulk. Pulled Pork doesn't need to know everything, he decided.

"Alright," he said with a sigh as he fidgeted with the makeshift bandages wrapped around his calf. "We'll have to find a replacement, then. Don't be so down," he said, patting the Ghost's shell in what he hoped was a gesture that came off as reassuring. "Not everything works out perfectly."

"Oh, certainly, Sir Uldwyn. I simply just… Well. I shouldn't be disappointed in myself; or rather, I mustn't set a bar I cannot uphold, I suppose," Pulled Pork replied, with a renewed sort of vigor in his mechanical little voice. It was charming, almost. "I will study Scorn weaponry in the future, yes? But for now—I must ask," he continued with mild hesitance, "where do you plan on retrieving such weapons?"

Uldwyn smiled, the corners of his blue lips curling up ever so slightly. "You'll see. It'll be fun, I can assure you that."


	5. valas

Nikolai had been out of it, lately, Valas noted as he watched the other man seated atop a boulder beside the Generator. He seemed antsy, in a sense. Perhaps because of his frequent over-the-shoulder glances towards the Gardens. Valas frowned.

The Scorn were gathering. Two minutes until shots would be fired.

Adelaide knelt beside him, her Warlock's robes pooling around her legs. She gripped her pulse rifle with a delicate hand, a thing that seemed almost comically large in comparison to her petite frame. He knew better than to doubt her ability, though.

Valas shook his head, a small smile painting his features. It was still beyond him how such a small woman could wreak such destruction, within or without the Crucible.

His gaze shifted back to the other Hunter, his back towards the two of them. Why Nikolai wore the Spider's mark and not Valas, the Hunter who had been working  _ with _ the Spider since before his revival, had been the topic of discussion many times. Nonetheless, the Nightstalker seemed to be on edge. Not a side of him that Valas saw often, truly.

"What's up with Orlov?" Adelaide asked him quietly. He hadn't thought she'd notice, to be fair. Another surprise from Adelaide Haase.

Valas shrugged. "I'd be damned if I knew," he said simply. "You know he doesn't voice his thoughts often."

She glanced at him as he spoke, most likely with a frown and a disapproving stare. He couldn't tell from beneath her helmet. "Not much bothers him. Should we be concerned?"

"Probably. No time to talk about this now, though—fifteen secs 'til strike," he replied as he stood. He slid his fingers along the grip of the hand cannon resting on his side. The Scorn were a milling mass of flesh and dark Ether. An Abomination roared in the distance, and the spire before them began to pulse. That was their cue.

The three Guardians spurred into action as Valas' hand cannon flipped out of his holster. This would be an easy clean.


	6. uldwyn

Stealing from the corsairs would not be an easy task, especially considering Uldwyn's wounded leg. He'd seen the Awoken soldiers fight, and he did not want to get caught at gun—or knife—point with his injury. Pulled Pork had done some scans of the injuries but had fallen silent shortly after, not something that was common for the small Ghost. He remained more-or-less oblivious to his plans, although Uldwyn wouldn't be surprised if he connected two and two at any given moment.

He couldn't have been more favored by the Light at that time; most of the Guardians he'd seen were busy repelling an attack from the creatures that had attacked him not three hours earlier—Scorn, as Pulled Pork had called them. Many of the corsairs at this specific outpost seemed to be absorbed in their duties. This shouldn't be too hard—drop in, grab the weapons, get out. He hoped the rest of the day would go just as well.

He sat at a hidden vantage point about fifty meters off the site, his knees pressed into the rock as he crouched low. He felt a chill rush over him as his ears popped. He ignored it—perhaps he'd look into it in the future, as it had not been the first occurrence of such symptoms, but for now he could do without. His leg throbbed slightly as he knelt there, but he trusted that he had bandaged it properly. He'd have to grit his teeth and push through the pain if the going got rough.

There were two corsairs actively guarding the camp, Uldwyn noticed. The other three were busy with an array of mechanical objects and processing units. A rack behind them held several different types of weaponry, ranging from bows to sidearms to rifles. That rack was his target.

Uldwyn pulled up the fabric mask hanging around his neck over his mouth and nose before taking one final look over the landscape. Satisfied with the information he'd gathered, be slipped away from his small vantage point after he planned out his route. He'd need to be fast—the Guardians would be finished with their duty soon enough. He needed to be finished and far away by then.

Getting past the first was easy enough—Uldwyn waited for them to look away long enough for him to slip behind them and into the cave they had set up their base in. Once inside, he pressed himself up against the chilled stone walls as he blended with the shadows. A corsair knelt about fifteen feet before him, their fingers dancing across a curious device of what was clearly Awoken tech. To his right stood another guard roughly ten feet off, besides which was a third corsair seated at a makeshift desk littered with an array of wires and computing chips. The last of the corsairs stood at the opposing entrance to the cave, their back leaned against the cave wall in a much more casual fashion as they oiled the rifle in their lap. A smattering of weapon parts lay scattered about them on small rags to prevent scratches, and they held an oiled cloth in their hands as they worked.

The weapons rack was situated right behind the second guard. This was where things got tricky. He crept up to the guard with all the patience he could muster, his heart pounding in his chest loud enough for him to hear.  _ Relax, Uldwyn,  _ he chided.  _ Mistakes are made when the stress gets to your head. You can't afford any mistakes. _

Uldwyn took a slow, deep breath as he readied himself. A bow and a hand cannon. That was all he needed. Quick, easy, simple. Instinctively, he tugged at the mask that covered the majority of his face. The fabric smelled stale. 

His fingers brushed against the grip of a hand cannon as he stretched to reach the rack. The corsairs before him did not notice his presence, thankfully, and he carefully dislodged the weapon from its place on the rack. He slipped it into an empty holster on his hip before breathing a silent sigh of relief as he shrank back into his darkened corner. Now just a bow. That'd be a bit trickier due to their size.

Pulled Pork looked to be absolutely horrified at what Uldwyn had done, hovering behind him in an uncomfortable silence.

_ "You can just ask," _ he said suddenly, his voice loud and clear in Uldwyn's mind. He nearly jumped.

_ "What?"  _ he thought simply. Could Guardians communicate with their Ghosts like this?

_ "You could ask for the weapons you need, rather than unfairly taking them without permission,"  _ Pulled Pork said again.  _ "Watch,"  _ he continued as he began floating over to the corsair before the stand. Uldwyn could feel his heart rate spike as he watched the little Ghost.

_ "No!"  _ he thought frantically.  _ "Wait,"  _ he continued hesitantly as the Ghost paused. Briefly, he considered giving him a nickname.  _ Now is not the time _ , he thought bitterly.  _ "I don't think they like me very much,"  _ he told him. 

_ "Ah, yes! If you would prefer I did not mention you, that is fine."  _ Pulled Pork bobbed as he spoke before turning back to speak with the corsair.

"Hello ma'am," he began before bobbing a formal little greeting.

The corsair looked at the Ghost in surprise before she responded. "Hello there, is there anything I can help you with?" she asked, a strangely upbeat tone evident in her voice. Uldwyn held his breath. 

"Would you be so kind as to allow me to use one of your fine bows?" Pulled Pork asked in a similar tone of voice. The corsair cocked her head slightly before speaking.

"Of course, but I am curious as to what for," she said, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. Uldwyn screwed his eyes shut.  _ This is where it all falls apart, _ he thought. 

"A Guardian friend of mine recently snapped his city-made bow," Pulled Pork said simply. Since when did Pulled Pork lie?

The corsair nodded in understanding before gesturing towards the rack. "Feel free to take one to him," she said. "And be sure to give him my thanks for helping us protect this city."

The Ghost bobbed gratefully once again before scanning the rack behind them and selecting a bow. Uldwyn's jaw nearly dropped. So much for his attempt at theft.

He slipped out of the cave undetected before finally showing himself a ways away from prying eyes. "I didn't think you were one to lie," he stated as he tested the weight of the hand cannon he had snagged. It was solid and had a balanced feel to it. The trigger wasn't overly sensitive, either, and it had been kept well-oiled. A good gun, to be sure.

"I didn't lie," his Ghost said simply as the bow materialized before Uldwyn. 

"Oh?" He picked it up after slipping the cannon back into his holster. The poundage of the bow was a bit light for his taste, but that was an easy fix. A little bit of adjusting on the sights as well, and it would be set to use.

"I do, in fact, have a Guardian friend who recently broke his bow. Do you remember the man we saw earlier?" he asked. 

Uldwyn wrinkled his nose. "The pale one with white hair?"

Pulled Pork bobbed happily in confirmation. "Yes, Nikolai is his name. He has been using an Awoken-crafted bow for a time, while he waits for his preferred weapon to be repaired. He's a kind soul, albeit a bit drawn back."

Uldwyn frowned as he slung the bow over his shoulder. Something about this Nikolai unsettled him to a degree. An eerie familiarity surrounded that Guardian's name. Perhaps he should investigate further in the future.

"Oh, and Pulled Pork?" he said over his shoulder as he began to head back towards his own camp within the heart of the city.

"Yes?"

"Don't scare me like that again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay, was busy this week


	7. nikolai

The Gardens of Esila. Nikolai had asked Petra about the namesake of the Gardens, but she had not answered. No matter—he could do without. Besides, he wasn't headed towards the Gardens to ponder on their name.

As per usual, Hive acolytes and knights lay in wait for him. He brushed past easily, his arrows landing true to his targets as muscle memory took over. He'd been to this area more times than he could count, whether out on patrol, assisting Amrita, or hunting a certain commander week after week. Things hadn't changed. Things never change.

The burial grounds were another five miles out—past the twisted trees, the terracing, then the pools and the portal to who-knows-where. Then it was out and around once again, before weaving through a series of caverns and halls. He'd be another hour by foot, but if he was quick he'd have enough time to check before needing to check in with Petra before retiring for the night.

Nikolai slid into one of his usual hiding spots as he neared the Hive patrolling the area. His bow was gripped comfortably in his left hand, his fingers barely grazing his hip as he silently clipped on his trigger release and nocked an arrow. It was a good bow, yes—Awoken crafted bows were some of the best he had ever come across—but it wasn't the bow he had used for so many years. He shrugged off his slight discomfort despite it as he drew the string back to his cheekbone, aimed, and released in a single breath. The arrow sliced through the air soundlessly before its head embedded itself into the neck of an acolyte, piercing an artery as a small stream of blue blood sprayed from the wound. It fell with a gurgle, its clawed hand at its throat. There was already another two arrows in the air by the time the acolyte hit the ground.

He felt a cold rush of Void Light envelop him as the third acolyte went down with a shot to the eye, and he took the opportunity to mask himself as he slipped through the remains and past several other patrol groups. 

_ "Something's wrong,"  _ Oksana murmured.

Nikolai frowned.  _ "How so?" _

_ "They're on edge. Something—or someone—has disturbed them recently." _

_ "Petra hasn't gotten any reports of anyone entering the Gardens since the artifacts were reclaimed again, save us two,"  _ he replied as he frowned underneath his helm. They were atop a small cliff face now. The path to the grounds was just ahead of them, but he took the time to examine the Hive below.

Oksana was right—they were on edge. They were more organized too, as if their direct leadership had suddenly gotten more strict. A defensive formation composed of acolyte and thrall was enforced on all their ranks, like they expected an attack at any moment. Of course, that hadn't done much good against the assassin-type Hunter that Nikolai was. His frown didn't leave his face, though. He would need to tell Petra about this when he got back.

_ If everything's alright and you're just being paranoid about Uldren, _ he thought with a wince. He'd need to deal with that, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for takin so long yall, life catches up with you sometimes


	8. uldwyn

There was a shortcut to their hideout in the main city, one that Uldwyn wasn't sure anyone else knew of. He'd scale the cliff in the Mists, then cut through the burial grounds and climb the tree in the north-west corner to reach a high window. Then it was a matter of traversing numerous corridors and stairwells to the top of one of the smaller spires, where he and Pulled Pork had set up base.

Uldwyn hefted himself over the lip of the cliff face, the sun beating down on the back of his neck. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he sat himself down as he overlooked the Mists far below. It was a beautiful sight, really, with the grassy fields rippling in the winds and the rock formations arching majestically into the sky. The spires of Keres were visible in the distance, graceful knives of white cutting into the blue and purple sky. A shame it had all been turned into a warzone.

Uldwyn stood with a sigh as the wind tossed his dark hair about, biting his skin with cold teeth as it passed by. He should get back before someone spotted him.

The way down to the burial grounds was not too much of an inconvenience. Uldwym could have jumped down, in truth, but he wasn't feeling particularly bold at the moment. A silent climb downwards would do.

He dropped onto all fours after descending most of the way down, his feet silent as they settled into the grass. The area was eerily quiet—typically the Hive wandered this area, but he saw no signs of them currently. Uldwyn stood on edge though, taking in a substantial amount of time to more thoroughly observe before pressing onwards. Aside from the disturbing lack of Hive, nothing seemed amiss.

Uldwyn crept forward silently, his hand on his blade as he ducked between hiding spots. Unnecessary? Perhaps, but he had no reason not to play his cards safely.

The tree was only a few meters off. Uldwyn would have to climb quickly if he wanted to reach the window unseen. If someone—or something—really was watching him and he wasn't simply imagining things, he would want to be fast indeed. Perhaps he should take a different route?

No. Too late now—he had started this path, and he had to commit one hundred percent to finish. He took one last slow glance around.

Cold steel pressed against his neck from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes another short update  
also, i lowkey just wanted a perspective change at the end so :pepeShrug:  
yall will have to wait ig


End file.
